


Fog

by Fudgyokra



Series: BruDick Week 2021 [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Car Sex, Inside the Batmobile, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:33:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28976703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fudgyokra/pseuds/Fudgyokra
Summary: For how long he has waited, Dick thinks he would give up anything for Bruce, even his own self-respect.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne
Series: BruDick Week 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2127891
Comments: 14
Kudos: 83
Collections: BruDick Week 2021





	Fog

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2: ~~Sharing Body Heat~~ | ~~Dick Was Never Adopted AU~~ | Inside the Batmobile
> 
> As usual, my post-holidays writer’s block is bad, but I had to eke this out in time for my favorite ship week! It’s very hastily written and even more hastily edited. I’m going to consider it a practice piece and blame how melodramatic it is on that. 😂

“We make each other alive; It doesn’t make a difference if it hurts.” —Ingmar Bergman

The car’s windows show stains. Hand prints, mainly, and streaks that cut through the fog each time they’re crowded into the same seat. Reinforced or not, the tinted glass does its job of showing every whirl on the pads of Dick’s fingers, the constellation of dots where his nose had bumped, and the fine lines across his brow where he’d dropped his forehead to moan and shake against it. Sometimes, there are other internal marks, from the scuffs of fingernails biting into the door to the torn leather where their tactical boots have skidded in their haste.

They’ve had to get many things cleaned or replaced, a job always done before the car returns home. No hints left behind, and no words spoken the moment the doors come open.

It’s all right, Dick catches himself thinking too often. He doesn’t need reminders beyond what’s been left inside him: The burning heat of a recent orgasm, the taste of Bruce’s tongue in his mouth, and a more _tangible_ element he knows isn’t worth mention once they’re back in the Cave. It’s all right. He doesn’t mind being kept secret.

_He does. He does, it’s just—_

It doesn’t matter.

For how long he has waited, Dick thinks he would give up anything for Bruce, even his own self-respect. Maybe he should feel ashamed. Sometimes he does, but mostly…mostly he feels _loved,_ in the way Bruce’s hands tighten around his hips, his upper arms, his thighs. In the way that these occurrences are the only times he ever sees Bruce smile anymore, with all the humor and adoration crinkling his eyes that he used to have before everything started going wrong.

He thinks it’s okay, because Bruce tells him he loves him when his fingers twist inside Dick’s body on every withdrawal, or when he’s splitting him breathless on his cock, or even when they’re catching their breath after the fact, doing nothing else but resting.

It’s not perfect, but this isn’t a fantasy world. The world he’s got is more than enough, and it keeps his heart beating in the way it always does right before he scales a building or leaps an alleyway in a single bound. Like it does now, as Bruce’s palm spreads wide over the dark glass above Dick’s head, sliding an inch to the left with a reverberating squeak before settling into position. Through the small clear patch left behind, the street lamps shine through, tossing orange glow over the back door upon which Dick’s feet are propped, toes curling against the material and heels thumping noisily each time Bruce rocks his hips forward.

Dick tosses his head back, coming close to banging it against the lock before Bruce’s free hand flies up to protect it. It sends him sliding down, elbow thumping against the door’s armrest, and the two of them sink lower, until they’re both resting on the seat. Bruce laughs once, more a huff of breath than a noise, and Dick’s own is swallowed by a kiss.

The heat inside the car builds, but it’s his last concern when compared to the sensations he’s receiving, and it keeps the winter chill outside at bay, besides.

Teeth nip at the skin of his jaw, and Dick pants, open-mouthed into the air past Bruce’s shoulder. He sneaks a hand beneath the hem of the gray undershirt, the other clawing at Bruce’s arm where it’s pressed against the back of the seat.

Tilting his hips up gets him the friction he needs, and an urgent moan claws its way free of his mouth alongside the rush of heat to his face. When his brows knit, Bruce traces his thumb over the wrinkle there, then down the bridge of his nose swiping over his bottom lip before pushing inside and pressing down on his tongue. Another moan enters the space, sounding gagged and needy.

Bruce snaps his hips forward, shudders, and leans down to flick his tongue against Dick’s bottom lip alongside where his thumb rests. In the next moment, he leans their foreheads together, staring so resolutely into Dick’s eyes that he feels pinned more by that than by the man’s weight.

Drool drips from the corner of his mouth down his chin. Bruce withdraws his thumb to smear it across his face, marking him used, filthy. Dick seizes bodily with a sound almost wounded when he comes, and Bruce takes that as his cue to straighten, yanking Dick back on his cock and holding him there as he empties inside him, eyes closed and teeth gritted in focus, riding out the high.

They come down slowly, and Dick unwillingly tunes in to the shift in temperament as Bruce puts himself together again. No longer open, no longer vulnerable. By the time they’re both fully redressed and back in their proper seats, it’s like they had never done a thing, barring the glowing flush spread high on their cheeks.

Dick doesn’t make a secret of staring as they clean up, nor on the ride back, and although Bruce surely notices, he doesn’t try to address it. Dick knows he _can’t,_ not without breaking down his carefully-built walls when he explains the full gravity of what going public will do, but he can’t help but lament.

They return to the Cave as usual. In the last seconds of shared space, Bruce smiles at him, soft and private, and Dick falls right back into the habit of forgiving him for this.

When Bruce says “Thank you,” in the way that means _I love you,_ Dick teases “No problem,” in the way that means _You too._ And when they exit the car in weary silence, it’s an unspoken _At least we’re hurting together._


End file.
